Upgrades
27 Mar 2020Amata Lirein
Amata stood on the upper catwalk of the medium-sized hangar on Stephens Enterprise that she'd need to occupy from now on when returning home, looking down onto her new ship while the workers and slaves finished painting it, applying the final touch by adding the ship's name and registry.She smiled as the airbrushed Imperial Eagle was finally completed, now proudly spreading its wings underneath a name she chose carefully, and just like the name of her Cobra before it reflected her Commander's personality quite well, but revealed it only to those who actually use their brains for more then talking about the weather or the latest rumors about who Princess Aisling's most recent lover might be.
She sighed, thankful that her family is not as important like the Duvals are as it allowed her to see who she wanted whenever she wanted, without the paparazzi decending onto it like vultures. The biggest irony about this though is that the Fed ones seem to be the worst offenders when it comes to this Amata thought to herself. While doing courier jobs inside Fed space to get those system permits it felt like every second bit of their so-called "news" was about Aisling. Aisling's newest and daring dress at this event, who the eyecandy on her arm was at another and so on. Their fascination for her at times made it feel like she was the Federation's princess, not the Imperial one.
"Ma'am, your father would like to know if everything's as you wished?" Amata turned around and looked at Lydia, one of her family's slaves and who was personally assigned to her while she's home. She gave the woman who basically raised her a warm smile. "Yes, Lydia, they just finished the paintjob and only need to remove the scaffolding again, then the Astarte is ready to go." The elder woman walked over and leaned onto the railing as well. "People were a bit disappointed that you did not buy one of the ships Gutamaya makes." Amata smirked. "I know. But until I managed to build up a more reasonable financial buffer of my own I decided it would be wiser to fly something a bit more... common. And those DeLacy ships are so common you sometimes wonder if there even are other manufacturers out there. I most certainly plan to pick up a Clipper or Cutter later on, especially because of how they look, but for now it might be better to not stand out any more then I need to. Also: their pricetags do tell everyone 'I've got money', especially to the more ruthless ones." Lydia nodded. "Seems like I teached you well, especially when to apply practicality over showiness... though I must admit I belong to that group I talked about." She laughed. "Though there's one thing you should change."
She pointed at the ship. "You should no longer look like you just finished the Pilots' Federation's piloting school when flying this. Instead you'd present yourself as a more experienced pilot who's not just taking someone else's ship on a joyride. Otherwise you might stand out to those more ruthless ones after all when they see you in the docks." Amata looked at her ship once more, seeing her reflection in the cockpit window, then looked at the old woman at her side. "You just want to spend more time with the girl you raised, don't you?" The two women smiled at each other. "But you're right. It's time to 'upgrade' myself as well." The elder woman nodded. "Fantastic. And when we're getting you a new haircut you can tell me what exactly is going on between you and that Alysha Caravalho. I heard the wildest stories about the two of you whenever you are visiting her. My counterpart there even mentioned some rather scandalous outfits she bought just for when you're visiting that would even..." Amata rolled her eyes as the woman who raised her seemed to switch into full-on "mom-mode".
I really need to tell Alysha to be a bit more discreet, especially when she feels like playing out yet another of those 'romantic' fantasies she read in one of those pilot-themed pulp magazines again.
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OOC:
Here is a rather tame example of what I'm talking above. Just do a google image search and you'll see that pulp magazines (especially in the '50s) were WEIRD